


Forever a Little Bird

by inthesnowglobe



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, Gen, Its so fluffy I'm gonna die!, Prequel, Sansador, Tumblr Prompt, prompt divergence, rot your teeth sweet, sansan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-09
Updated: 2013-12-10
Packaged: 2018-01-04 03:36:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1076061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inthesnowglobe/pseuds/inthesnowglobe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU/ Major canon divergence</p><p>Takes place approx. 9 years before GoT. </p><p>Sandor is a ward of Ned's in Winterfell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

Chapter 1

 

“Clegane!” Ned yelled from across the yard. The Lord of Winterfell's voice caught Sandor's attention and earned him a smack on the shoulder with a blunted sword from Jory. Sandor shot a deadly glare at Jory as Ned made his way over to them. If the Lord of the castle hadn’t been walking quickly towards them, Sandor would no doubt have retaliated and brutally.

 

He didn’t give a shit if Jory was Rodrik's nephew or not.

 

“Clegane, Jory,” Ned said as he approached the two winded youths. “I've been talking to Rodrik and we have decided that it is about time Robb and Jon begin their training with swords and bows. I would like the two of you to oversee their training until they are ready to join the knights in the yard with Rodrik.”

 

“Yes, my lord,” Jory said with a bow of his head. Sandor just nodded and shook the hair out of his eyes. It was damp from sweat and clung to his forehead. He licked at his lips and tasted the salt. Jory was older than him but he was bigger. The man was fast and Sandor had to work hard to keep up with him. He wasn’t looking forward to training the two young boys either. Jon would be a quick learner. He was serious and would take his training to heart but Robb was going to be a little pest. They couldn’t be more than seven.

 

“Oh, by the way,” Ned said as he turned back to the two young men. “I'm bringing in another ward. The youngest Greyjoy boy. He will be training with you too.”

 

What did Sandor look like? A fucking wet nurse?

 

“Theon, isn’t it my lord?” Jory asked. “We'll train him up right.”

 

“Aye, Jory.” Ned said as he clapped Jory on the shoulder. “Sandor,” he said looking firmly at the youngest Clegane. “I'm counting on you. You are one of the best swords I have in the castle, even if you can't shoot to save your life.”

 

Ned smiled and Jory broke out into laughter. Sandor sucked his teeth in agitation but smirked to Jory. “You can laugh when you have a bow in your hand.” He gave Jory a smack on the shoulder with the flat of his blade making Jory wince and massage what would be the blooming bruise.

 

Ned laughed and turned to leave. “Beginning tomorrow,” he called after him.

 

“Yes, my lord,” Jory called after Ned before Sandor gave him another smack. Jory whirled around and came at Sandor with renewed fervor.

 

Sandor hacked mercilessly back until he had the smaller man on his back in the mud. Jory cursed as Sandor offered a hand with a smirk and hoisted him up. “Stick to the bow.”

 

Sandor crossed the yard and went into the armory. He had taken his armor off and had dumped a spoonful of water over his head when he heard a noise in the corner by the practice swords. Sandor's head shot up as the water ran down his face and chest. A crash and a scream made him go over to see what in the seven hell's was going on.

 

He saw the tiny redhead girl trying to pick up the heavy steel tourney swords that she had knocked over. He noticed that she was crying when she looked up at him in terror. Her wide blue eyes were swimming as the tears rolled down her round baby cheeks.

 

“Sansa,” Sandor sighed as he took the swords from her and picked her up.

 

“Hi, Sandor,” she said shyly. He knew he scared her.

 

“What are you doing in here, girl?” Fuck him if he wasn’t really turning into a wet nurse.

 

Hodor came lumbering into the armory and visibly relaxed when he saw Sansa. “Hodor,” he sighed.

 

“Hodor!” Sansa exclaimed as she writhed in Sandor's arms. He put her down and she ran to the gentle giant. Sandor followed her as she jumped in the boy's arms.

 

“You can't let her in here, Hodor. It isn’t safe.”

 

Jory walked in and frowned at the sight of the little girl. “Why is she in here?”

 

“Fuck if I know,” Sandor said with exasperation.

 

“Hodor,” said Hodor.

 

“Take her back into the castle, Hodor. The armory is no place for a little girl.”

 

“Hi, Jory!” Sansa beamed.

 

“Hello, beautiful. You know you shouldn't be in here,” he said with a charming smile.

 

Sansa blushed as Hodor took her out of the armory and back to the castle. Sandor watched as she peaked over the giants shoulder and waved and smiled sweetly. Sandor raised his gloved hand and gave her an awkward two finger wave. She giggled and disappeared with Hodor.

 

Sandor stood looking at the spot where she had disappeared and felt the strangest urge to smile slightly until he heard Jory at his elbow.

 

“How in the seven hells did she get in here? She needs a better keeper than Hodor. I was thinking of approaching Ned about being her shield.”

 

Sandor turned to look at him. “You want to be that little bird's wet nurse, you go ahead. That girl finds trouble.” Sandor had seen her getting into mischief around the castle before. She was always trying to swipe cakes from the kitchens. “Ned isn’t going to want you for her sworn shield anyway.”

 

“And you would be his first choice?”

 

“Gods, I hope not. The Lord of Winterfell is going to want a knight for his daughter. You haven't been knighted yet.”

 

“Not yet, but we will be soon.”

 

“Keep your _sers_. I’m not interested and you know it.”

 

Jory smiled and started to take off his armor. Sandor poured some more water over his head and felt the cool water cut clean streaks down his dirty and sweaty chest and back. He shook his hair and sprayed Jory with a fan of salty water.

 

“Fuck, Sandor. You are worse than a dog.”

 

Sandor growled and yanked his tunic off to wring out the water and the sweat.

 

“Maybe you should be in the kennels with the hounds.”

 

“Maybe you should suck my cock, Cassel.”

 

“Lighten up, Hound. Let's go to the hall. I'm hungry.”

 

When Sandor and Jory made it to the Great Hall, the food was laid out for dinner and Ned sat at the high table with Catelyn and his children. When Ned saw them walk through the doors he motioned for them to come to the table. Catelyn pursed her lips. Jory she liked well enough, but Lady Stark had never been warm to Sandor.

 

“Lord Stark?” Sandor said as he dipped his head.

 

“Sandor, Jory, this is the new ward,” he motioned to a small boy sitting a few seats down with Robb and Jon. “This is Theon of House Greyjoy.”

 

The tall thin boy rose from his seat and approached Jory and Sandor. He had a kracken on his tunic. Ned would see that little habit die quickly. Sandor no longer wore the dogs of House Clegane though he didn’t wear the direwolf of the Starks either.

 

“Theon, this is Sandor Clegane and Jory Cassel. They will oversee your training alongside Robb and Jon.”

 

“Sers,” Theon said as he dipped into a deep bow. Ned and Jory laughed. Sandor felt a small grin pull at the corner of his mouth.

 

Eager little shit.

 

“Jory and Sandor have not been knighted, Theon. Sandor is a ward just like yourself and Jory is part of my household guard. They have both been trained under Rodrik's instruction alongside knights and are to be respected as highly as any knight.”

 

Catelyn shot Sandor a disdainful look before tending to a grabby Sansa. The little bird had spotted a plate of lemon cakes in front of Robb and was quickly making her way over and reaching desperately for them.

 

Jon moved the plate out of her reach but not before sneaking her one of the crumbling little cakes.

 

“When do we start?” Jon asked as Sansa scuttled away with her moist treat.

 

“Tomorrow,” Ned said to an eager looking Robb and a serious looking Jon. “Sandor will instruct you with the sword and Jory will oversee your archery lessons.” Jory nudged Sandor with his elbow and smirked.

 

“Go enjoy dinner and get a good rest, you two. You will have your hands full tomorrow.”

 

Sandor and Jory ate together. Sandor would rather be stuck with him than with Robb, Jon and Theon. After dinner, they went to the brothel in Wintertown and took a whore before returning back to the castle. Jory took off to his chambers but Sandor stayed awake and wandered the yard. He found himself in the stables and began rubbing down one of the horses.

 

The action was soothing and allowed him to think.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

Chapter 2

 

Sandor and Jory had been training the boys for the better part of a year and not to Sandor's surprise, the boys were showing massive improvement. Robb and Jon were proving themselves quick learners with a sword and Theon was excelling in archery lessons with Jory.

 

Sandor was watching on the sidelines as Robb and Jon fought fiercely with each other as they swung their wooden swords at each other. Robb was fast but Jon was perceptive. The bastard seemed to be able to anticipate with admirable accuracy what Robb's next move would be. Jon was also patient. He often circled Robb as he waited and observed for Robb to lunge before he countered and often rained what would have been deadly blows down on Robb.

 

“Your face is betraying your movements, boy,” he chided the oldest Stark.

 

Jon smiled at his brother and whirled his sword in lazy circles at his side.

 

“And you,” Sandor shot at Jon. “Keep your guard up. He's faster than you.”

 

“I can't see what my face is doing!” Robb said in exasperation. “How am I supposed to stop if I don’t know when I’m doing it?”

 

“You grimace before you strike. We can all see it,” Sandor corrected. “Concentrate on keeping it still when you are going to attack.”

 

Robb circled Jon and kept his face free of any snarling that threatened to give him away. Without breaking through the stony facade, Robb arched a graceful blow against Jon's shoulder that with more strength and power would have split the boy in two. Jon tried to side step it but instead walked right into it. Jon winced and rubbed his shoulder.

 

“That was all I had! Now he has the advantage!” Jon complained.

 

Sandor whacked him with his own wooden sword on the arm eliciting a groan. “You are predictable. Stop moving the same way every time. You jumped right under his blade. Mix it up. Don't let him think he knows what he is doing. He is fast and impatient. Keep watching him and stop dropping your sword!” Sandor barked as he smacked Jon's sword arm again.

 

Jon sulked but brought his wooden blade back up as they circled again. Jory and Theon had come to watch the exchange, both shouting out advice and encouragement. The boys exchanged blows, each one being blocked by the other, until they were tired and winded. Robb, Theon and Jory went off to the armory to dispose of their weapons but Jon hung back.

 

“He's better than me, isn’t he?” the young boy asked Sandor with sullen bitterness.

 

“No. He has different strengths than you.”

 

“He's always better than me,” the boy moped.

 

“Quit your crying, boy,” Sandor snapped, though he thought he could relate to how Jon was feeling. He knew a little too much about brotherly competition. “If he is better than you, thank the gods that he is your brother and not your enemy. Be happy it's a bruise you will wake up to tomorrow when you could very well not wake up at all. This is how you learn, boy.”

 

“Is that how you learned? Your brother?” Jon asked hopefully.

 

“My brother was my enemy. It was learn or die,” Sandor replied dispassionately. “Go put away your shit. Your riding lessons are next.”

 

Jon nodded with a maturity surpassing his brother and walked a little taller back to the armory.

 

Sandor just pushed the rage that was bubbling up inside of him down until his hands stopped shaking. He hated to think about his own brother.

 

…......................

 

Once the horses were saddled, Jory and Sandor took the boys to the godswood to ride. There had been too many reports of wildlings outside the gates to take them beyond the walls of the castle for their lessons.

 

Theon, being an Ironborn, was not as adept at horseback riding as the other two boys. He was still struggling with making his horse back up on command and his jumping was ridiculous. The horse shied more often than not and often sent Theon into the mud. The training centered around the Greyjoy boy more than Robb and Jon that day, who sat and watched with smiles and laughs as the older boy struggled to command his horse.

 

Soon the two boys grew restless and bored as they sat and watched. They had dismounted and had taken up sword fighting with some sticks they had found. They were playing and not fighting in earnest. One particularly lazy and careless swing from Robb hit Jon's mare of her rump and caused her to bolt into the trees. Her cry caused Theon's horse to rear up and throw him from the saddle.

 

Sandor cursed and shot Robb a irritated glare. Robb huffed at the silent admonishment and threw down his stick. Sandor cantered off after the spooked mare and found her placidly drinking from the pond beneath the weirwood.

 

As he approached, he heard a small humming coming from close by but as he neared, it stopped. Sandor looked around the godswood for the source of the melody but the forest was still. Sandor dismounted and went over to where the mare was drinking. He heard a rustle in the leaves and so did the horse. Sandor's hand was on his sword in a flash.

 

“Who's there?” he growled.

 

A small wide eyed face peeked from around the heart tree. The cascade of copper waves gave Sansa away before she stepped out from behind the tree. She eyed his hand on his sword and looked away shyly.

 

“It's just me, Sandor.” In her tiny hands was a ring of woven flowers matching the one on her head. “I was playing princess.” She went back to the small patch of flowers and sat down to continue picking.

 

Sandor started to walk over to her when he heard shouting from the clearing where he left the others and the thunder of hoof beats in the leaves. His head snapped up as Theon on the back of his runaway horse bolted through the trees and into the small clearing of the pond, Jory hot on his heels.

 

“Help!” Theon was shouting.

 

“Pull on the reigns, you stupid boy!” Jory called from behind him.

 

Theon jerked the reigns in his panic but only sent the frenzied horse straight into the direction that Sansa had resumed her flower picking. She was looking at the horse that was barreling towards her in stunned horror, her tiny lips parted in surprise.

 

Sandor closed the distance in only a few hurried strides and snatched the tiny princess up just as the horse was bearing down upon her. Sansa screamed as Sandor wheeled around just in time as the horse's flank slammed into the side not clutching desperately to a trembling Sansa. Sandor felt the pain of something crack and the grind of bone on bone but held tightly to Sansa as she clutched at him.

 

Jory bolted for Theon's horse and snatched the reigns before the frightened beast tried to make another mad dash. He leapt from his own saddle and came around to calm the spooked and lathered horse.

 

“Get down!” Jory commanded to Theon. “You are walking her back.”

 

In Sandor's arms, Sansa had begun to cry quietly judging by her shaking body. Sandor felt his heart pounding in his chest as he looked her over and forced her to look up into his face. “Look at me, little bird.”

 

Sansa aimed her face up into his ruined one as the tears ran down her cheeks.

 

“Are you hurt?” he asked her quietly as he knelt down to put her back on her feet. She shook her head but refused to let go of him as she curled even tighter against his broad chest. Sandor felt her tears saturate his tunic as he smoothed her hair and hushed her with as soothing a tone as he could.

 

He was sure it was coming out as more of a growl than anything else but the girl seemed not to be phased.

 

Robb and Jon came running into the clearing with Robb's horse in tow and saw their little sister sobbing against Sandor.

 

“What in the seven hells is she doing out here?” Jory said as he rushed over to see if she was alright.

 

Robb and Jon looked on with wide-eyed worry. Theon could look at nothing but his feet.

 

“What happened to her?” Robb asked nervously.

 

“She will be alright. She's just scared.,” Jory said as he tried to take her from Sandor. The girl clutched desperately to his tunic and wouldn’t let go.

 

“You are alright, little bird. Go to Jory.”

 

The girl whimpered and shook her head.

 

“Let's get her back and have Luwin look her over,” Jory said. “Go on ahead, Sandor. I'll get these green summer children back if they can manage,” he said shooting an angry glare over to the three boys.

 

Sandor nodded and went over to mount his horse, ignoring the pain in his shoulder, as he gripped the girl in one arm and held the saddle with the other.

 

Jory noticed his grimace of discomfort. “Are you hurt? That horse hit you hard.”

 

“I'll be fine.”

 

Sansa looked down over Sandor's good arm at where Jory was standing next to the horse. “I'm not hurt, Jory.”

 

“I'm glad to hear that, my lady, bu the maester needs to make sure,” Jory said with worry written plainly across his face.

 

Sandor kicked his horse into a canter and rode back to the yard. He threw the reigns at a stable boy as he jumped out of his saddle and headed for the maester's tower. Rodrik and some of the knights were in the yard practicing as he passed.

 

“Have someone inform Lord Stark and Lady Catelyn that there was an incident in the godswood. Sansa is being taken to maester Luwin.”

 

Rodrik looked alarmed but relaxed slightly when Sansa smiled at him and waved. He barked some hurried orders to the a few of the boys in the yard as Sandor made his way towards the tower.

 

As they approached the tower, Sansa took the tiny wreath of flowers she was still holding in her hand and put it on top of Sandor's head like a crown. Sandor looked at her happy satisfied face with disgust before he snatched it off.

 

“What are you doing, girl?”

 

“It's a crown. You are like a prince in the songs.”

 

“Far from it,” he scoffed. She looked hurt and Sandor cursed himself for being so rough after she had almost been trampled by a fucking horse. “You are the princess, remember,” he said more gently as he placed it on top of her head. The other one had fallen off and left the little princess without her crown.

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

Chapter 3

 

Sandor swung his sword around in lazy circles as he tried desperately to work the stiffness out of his sword arm. This injury was going to haunt him forever. Every morning he woke up, he had to stretch and work at it until it returned to its normal condition. Some days it still hurt to swing his heavy broadsword at all.

 

These fucking Stark kids.

 

Two years later and he was still feeling the broken shoulder blade from where the horse had plowed into him that day he saved Sansa.

 

Just as Sandor had gotten warmed up and had begun to feel his shoulder loosen up, Lord Stark approached him in the yard. “Sandor,” he said warmly.

 

“Lord Stark,” Sandor said nodding.

 

“There is a matter that I have been meaning to discuss with you for some time now. I had hoped you would accompany me in my solar for a brief discussion.” Lord Eddard said with a knowing smile.

 

Sandor and Jory exchanged glances. He could feel the eyes of everyone in the yard on him. He could hear Robb and Theon snickering but when he looked over Jon had excluded himself from their amusement. “Aye.”

 

Sandor sheathed his sword and followed Ned into the castle towards the lord's chambers. When they arrived Eddard invited him to sit and offered him wine. He declined neither. Ned went around to sit behind his desk. He pulled some paper and ink close to him and lit the candle that would melt the wax for his seal.

 

“How are the boys faring in their training?”

 

“Much improved. Robb and Jon show great potential as swordsmen while Theon has an extreme proclivity with a bow. Or so Jory tells me.”

 

“Are you happy here, Sandor?”

 

Sandor kept his face as neutral as possible but felt his eyes narrow slightly. Ned seemed to ignore it. “Aye. Your family has been all too kind to me.”

 

“You are a man grown and have no more need to stay here as my ward. You would be free to leave and stay in your father's keep or become employed in any number of positions. I would be happy to recommend your name for work in the capital for King Robert.”

 

Sandor sat and sipped on his wine pensively. He knew this day was long overdue and that he would have to strike out on his own eventually. Lord Eddard was offering him his seal of approval for work in King's Landing. He could go home. To the South, that is. He would never go back to Clegane's Keep.

 

“I think a gold cloak would not be out of the question, though, he will expect you to be knighted first. A service I would be happy to provide for you,” Ned continued. “I'm offering to knight you, Sandor.”

 

“I won't take vows,” Sandor said simply.

 

Ned sighed. “Sandor, I know what your opinion of knights is and I cant say that I blame you,” he said as his eyes scanned through the curtain of long black hair that hung in Sandor's face. “But knighthood would afford you richer possibilities.”

 

“I won't take them,” Sandor asserted.

 

Ned nodded his head. “I thought as much.” He stood from his chair and walked around the desk to where Sandor was sitting and sat on the edge. “The boys have taken a liking to you, as has Sansa, as I am sure you have noticed,” Ned continued. “We are all still grateful for her safety. How is the shoulder, by the way?”

 

“It still ails me, but it can be worked through,” he said as he rolled his eyes behind his closed eyelids. The boys, he thought hated him. He was tough on them in the training yard and rarely ever spoke to them otherwise. Sansa, on the other hand, had been his shadow many days since the incident in the godswood two years prior. She still hid from him and didn’t say much except for the occasional _hello_ but she always seemed close.

 

Sometimes he didn’t see her, but he could hear her singing.

 

“Good!” Ned said, breaking Sandor's train of thought. “Winterfell could always use another able bodied man. There are positions available that would suit your strengths, Sandor, though, I’m not sure you will want to take them.”

 

“And what might those be?”

 

“As, I said, Sansa has taken a liking to you,” Ned began but Sandor started shaking his head furiously.

 

“No,” Sandor said resolved.

 

“You didn't even hear my offer.” Ned said as he took a roll of paper and scribbled something on it quickly. He poured a small pool of wax and sealed it with his stamp.

 

“She needs a sworn shield but I am not the man for that job.”

 

“Why not? You have proven that her safety is important-” He was interrupted as he set the scroll of parchment aside.

 

“She was a baby!”

 

“And she still is. She's only six. She still needs protection, especially with so many men off dealing with the wildling attacks in the Gift.”

 

Sandor was still shaking his head. “Then send me to the gift. Surely, more help will be needed there.”

 

Ned scoffed and smiled. “Your talents would be wasted on wildlings, Sandor.”

 

“But not on following a child around the castle as she picks flowers?”

 

Ned was suddenly serious. “As you have seen, there are dangers everywhere for a small girl living in a castle of men. No amount of man power would ever be considered a waste where my daughter's safety is concerned.”

 

“What about Jory?”

 

“What of him?”

 

“He has expressed his own concern for the girls' safety. Why was he not approached for the position?”

 

“She has grown so fond of you since you saved her that day in the godswood. Jory would also be an obvious candidate, however. There is another station that I had considered you for but it will be scorned should you not be knighted first.”

 

“What is that?”

 

Ned sighed again. “Rodrik is going to become master-at-arms, leaving the position for-”

 

“I'll take that.” Sandor interrupted.

 

Eddard quirked up an eyebrow. “Even though it would mean being knighted? I would require no vows for Sansa's shield. I trust you, Sandor.”

 

Sandor took a deep breath and weighed his options heavily. Lord Eddard was giving him an option to stay on at Winterfell as Sansa's sworn shield or as captain of the household guard. The seasoned men would never accept him as their captain if he was landless _and_ titleless.

 

He thought of the little girl who had place the crown of flowers on his head as she smiled at him. How she had clutched to him as she cried. How she had looked into his mangled face and been only relieved. She used to see him as a monster and he couldn’t blame her. He supposed he scared all small children. Even when he was a boy himself, after first coming to Winterfell with his still healing face, he had scared Robb and Jon.

 

She used to see a monster but now he was some twisted savior in her naïve child's eyes.

 

…...........................

 

Sandor made his way back through the castle towards his chambers. His appointment with Lord Eddard had lasted longer than they both had thought. After giving Ned his answer, he had declined the offer to walk to the Great Hall together for dinner and instead retired to his chambers alone but for his thoughts.

 

He sunk down into a chair and began to removed his boots and armor. He sighed heavily and worried at a cut on his lip as he worried at his decision. He quickly tasted the fresh taste of tangy metal as the cut opened anew.

 

He heard a knock at his door and crossed to open it, irritated by the disturbance.

 

“Lord Eddard said to send you this,” said a young boy with a tray of food and a flagon of wine. Beside the plate of food was a note with Stark's seal. It was the note Ned had written as they spoke. Sandor snatched the tray from the trembling boy and slammed the door with his foot without a word. He took the tray to the table by the open window and set it down.

 

Appreciating the wine, he poured himself a cup and drank deeply as he picked up the small scroll of paper. He broke the seal and unrolled the paper.

 

In Ned's quickened and messy hand was a short message,

 

_You have made the right decision, Sandor._

 

Sandor took another deep gulp of his wine and poured himself another cup. He stared down at the note and reread it several times before he dropped it back down on the table.

 

The right decision. Had Ned known what Sandor was going to say or did he just not care either way? Was staying in Winterfell the right decision? Ned seemed to think so even before he knew Sandor was going to make it.

 

Either way, Winterfell was his home for the foreseeable future.


End file.
